I want to cry.
I want to break down.
But I can't.
The silence holds my tears hostage.
I'm full of void—
a pit carved out by deception and lies.
Each day, I lose another part of myself.
Trying to be someone I'm not
so someone else might enjoy my presence.
I keep sacrificing myself
to empty hearts
that never asked to feel—
just to be filled.
I thought I felt nothing.
Cared about nothing.
Was nothing.
I was just…
existing.
But the longer I kept going,
the more I wanted—
To feel.
To be felt.
To care.
To be cared for.
To become something.
To mean something.
To exist.
So I wandered,
from place to place,
trying to fit into skins that weren't mine—
not realizing I was shattering.
Bit by bit.
Beyond repair.
I lost myself.
My life.
My time.
Everything.
And in the end,
I came full circle—
back to the void.
Back to just existing.
It echoes in me now:
All I can do is exist.
I have to exist.
I must exist.
Exist.
Exist.
Ex...
ist...
I DON'T WANT TO EXIST.
I just want to disappear.